


all i know is what i see

by decompository



Series: feel this burning, love of mine [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decompository/pseuds/decompository
Summary: “This isn’t one of your games where you fuck me after as payment. This is different.” He spits and ducks under Asami’s arms in the hopes of getting far, far away. But unexpectedly, the man lets him leave. If Akihito feels disappointment, he doesn’t show it.





	all i know is what i see

_ And I can’t live without it.  _

 

The balcony is quiet at this time of the night, providing a seclusion that, in times like these, Akihito appreciates wholeheartedly. The singlet he wears is not enough to shield against the autumn breeze but exhaustion makes him stay, and the emotional toll from the last week keeps his mind numb and distracted from the cold. Akihito’s shoulders fold inwards like awkward, origami corners and he droops his head lower to whisper into the phone.

“Dad and I found her in the kitchen,” He mumbles and sniffles thickly, jaw tightening to keep his voice steady. “They said surgery is the only option.”

The clouds peel back from the moon and in the silvery light Akihito looks like an apparition.

“But Takato—” His voice breaks, croaky from days of crying, “Takato I don’t know how we’re gonna afford it. We can’t. I don’t know what to do.” His back curls like a hook and Akihito sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.

After a minute he runs a hand through his unkempt hair and tugs harshly in frustration. He laughs bemusedly into the phone.

“I can get another job and sell my cameras—“

Akihito falters as another wave of anguish washes over him, another kind of pain that leaves him cynical and twisted inside.

“I can’t…she won’t. We’re not like that.” Akihito replies hollowly. “I don’t have that kind of value.”

“No, of course you do!” Takato insists before a baby’s wailing interrupts their conversation. “Look, I gotta go, I’m sorry but—call me if you need anything.  _ Anything. _ I’ll talk to you later.”

Akihito hums in agreement and bids his friend goodbye. He’s left standing in the darkness after, alone with his contemplations and a churning pit of anxiety in his stomach. Akihito lists all the things he could liquidise tomorrow (his cameras, his watch, his shoe collection) and then sighs helplessly into the air.

With a deep inhale Akihito gathers himself together (as best as he can) and turns to enter the penthouse.

Asami stands rigidly by the balcony doors, expression hard and concrete against the fluorescent lights on top.

Akihito freezes instantly, blood running cold in his veins as the man’s analytical eyes sweep from his face, neck and then to his phone. They stand there for a long moment, equally stunned and motionless and Akihito ponders if he has the energy to put up with meaningless bickering.

Akihito averts his eyes and brushes past him while Asami watches carefully. Akihito feels like an open book with bleeding words.

“You’re home early.” He attempts at small talk and the large clock hanging on the wall reads 10 o’clock. He hadn’t heard Asami come in. Had he heard everything? Does he know?

“You were crying.” Asami states and follows him until he’s a hair’s width away and breathing into the other’s left ear. “Why?”

Akihito turns unexpectedly and shoves him away, anger pulling his face into a vicious frown. 

“None of your concern. Go jack off, I’m not in the mood for sex.”

“I’m not asking for sex.” 

 

Akihito freezes, anger dissolving as he mumbles, “What?”

“I don’t want sex. I want to know  _ why _ you’re crying.”

Akihito blinks at him and for a moment his tongue flexes, the truth and burdens weighing on his shoulders threatening to spill out. But he remembers who Asami is, the way his mind functions and he visibly reels at the idea of vulnerability.

“None of your concern,” He mumbles low and tired and his stomach sinks when Asami draws closer, trapping him against the wall with frustrated eyes.

“Don’t be idiotic, I could help you.”

“No.” Akihito doesn’t hesitate, feeling the hurt earlier rise again in his throat in the form of bile. “I don’t need your charity.”

“We both know you do.”

Akihito stares defiantly at him and Asami notices at the bags sinking under his red rimmed eyes.

“This isn’t one of your games where you fuck me after as payment. This is different.” He spits and ducks under Asami’s arms in the hopes of getting far, far away. But unexpectedly, the man lets him leave. If Akihito feels disappointment, he doesn’t show it. 

  
  
  
  


Two days later, Akihito barges into his office. He’s gasping for breath and his face blooms a deep red, as if he’d run across town to get to Sion. Akihito straightens, a letter clutched tightly in his right hand. It flashes numbers and a bill statement, completely paid. 

 

“Did you do this?” He asks, confused, but curious and open. Akihito is more stunned than angry; in fact he isn’t even agitated, just anxious. Asami doesn’t do things without reciprocation. 

 

Asami calmly pushes his chair back and walks to his partner, leaning back against his desk. 

 

“Yes. Are you angry with me?” 

 

Akihito exhales shakily and swallows, feeling his eyes burn. “No,” he admits and looks at the ground. “I’m not angry, just confused. Why?” 

 

Asami steps forward then and pulls him intimately close, uncaring of the sweat pressing into his suit. He curls his right arm around Akihito’s shoulder and hooks a chin on top of his head and that alone speaks a thousand words. 

 

“It was the right thing to do.” He whispers but Akihito hears  _ because I care. _ Asami’s chest is warm and comforting and Akihito nuzzles into it. 

 

“I can’t pay you back any time soon.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Asami replies with a tone of finality and Akihito’s heart soars. “I wanted to do it.” 

 

Akihito draws back to stare at him, eyes glassy and face struck with tender emotion and he crumbles. He’s looking at Asami like never before; open and raw and willing, no evading bone in his body. It makes Asami ache. 

 

“Thank you.” He whispers genuinely and gratefully into Asami’s chest before wrapping his arms around his waist. He clings on affectionately, buzzing with it, overflowing and drowning in it over and over again.  _ “Thank you.”  _

 

Something thrives inside of Asami’s chest, something akin to pride and pure contentment that feels foreign to him. Akihito is an anomaly through and through; seemingly so ordinary but so profound in his presence. He can evoke whatever humanity Asami has left, and that usually terrified him but  _ now,  _ now he accepts it. Now, he enjoys it, no matter how fleeting. 

 

Asami merely presses his cheek to Akihito’s hair after and closes his eyes, keeping them together for an infinite amount of time. 

 

No one says anything, but they don’t need to. 


End file.
